Chapter 59
We’re almost there. Almost there, love. Kaldrek’s voice thundered through her mind again and again, but Evelyne couldn’t answer—not while she was still fighting, still biting, still throwing herself at anything that moved just to stay alive.
Every step she took was toward the ones who had slipped inside the manor.
Toward her family. She couldn’t let the Noskari reach them.
Evelyne lunged to her right, sinking her teeth into the neck of another Noskari.
Dark blood burst across her snout as she tore into it, shaking her head violently before ripping free and casting it aside.
Her back screamed in protest, pain radiating through her limbs with every movement, but she forced herself onward.
Keep going. Keep killing, she told herself. Don’t you dare stop, Evelyne, or they will all die.
A loud cry cut through the chaos and she froze mid-step, snapping her head toward Aurelia.
Three Noskari had her pinned, their claws dug deep into her legs and sides, dragging her down as she struggled beneath them.
Evelyne sprinted.
All those years spent sneaking out, chasing the wind, pushing her body further than it should have gone—it all surged through her now.
Speed. Power. Anger.
She threw herself forward, slamming into the two creatures raising their arms to strike Aurelia.
The impact knocked them off balance just long enough for her sister to let out another cry, and Evelyne realized the third still had her.
She skidded hard, then twisted to run back toward them.
Her limbs felt heavier now, but she did not stop.
She couldn’t. Not while Aurelia was still in danger.
Then the forest shook with the sound of heavy paws closing in.
For one brief moment, the Noskari paused, their focus snapping toward the trees beyond the manor, but Evelyne seized the opening.
She lunged, her jaws closing around the throat of the creature still gripping Aurelia, and sank her canines in with everything she had left until its body gave way beneath her and she wrenched its head free of its shoulders.
Growls rolled through the clearing. From the forest line, the Ironwolves burst into view with a white wolf at their head. Kaldrek. His presence sliced through the night like a blade, his dark eyes fixed with the promise of death. The others followed close behind, driving into the remaining Noskari.
Holden reached Aurelia first, concern plain in every movement as he checked her, though she still forced herself upright.
I’m all right, Evelyne sent quickly, before Kaldrek could reach her.
He still came anyway. Always would.
I’m going inside, she pushed through the bond. They’re still in there.
You did well, he answered, pride threading through his voice. Keep going.
The words struck deep, steadying her in a way nothing else could. Evelyne turned at once and ran.
A group of wolves surged after her, but not the Ironwolf pack.
Oathroot followed her lead, falling in behind her as she charged through the foyer and into the manor. They picked up speed and moved as one, sprinting through the halls, tearing into every creature they found.
Evelyne’s heart sank. The manor no longer felt like home.
The moment she crossed the threshold, the world turned unrecognizable. The thick, suffocating scent hit her first. Blood. It clung to the air, soaked into the floors, and lingered in the walls as though the house itself had begun to bleed.
Desperate screams echoed down the corridors. Her paws slipped over the polished floor as she ran, claws scraping for purchase, following the sounds toward the dining room. Her chest heaved, every sense overwhelmed by the chaos engulfing her home.
She burst through the doorway.
And everything slowed.
Her mother stood at the far end of the table, pale but upright, her back pressed to the wood as though it alone kept her standing.
And in front of her stood Seraphine, knives clutched in both hands.
Her shoulders shook, but she remained between Lady Celeste and the three Noskari circling them, her eyes fixed on the creatures with a fierce, desperate determination Evelyne had never seen in her before.
Those were the hands that had dressed her as a child, braided her hair, and steadied her through tears more times than she could count. Now they held blades. Now they trembled.
The Noskari crept closer, their bodies shifting unnaturally, their heads tilted as though studying her. One struck. Seraphine reacted at once, her arm snapping up just in time for the knife to catch beneath its jaw and drive it back.
Then Evelyne was there. She slammed into it from the side with all her weight, driving it to the floor as her jaws closed around it.
A sharp gasp sounded somewhere in the room. Her mother’s eyes widened first with fear, then with something far more fragile. Recognition. Evelyne looked back at her, and somehow, through the blood and fur and horror of it all, Celeste knew.
“Evelyne?” she whispered.
There was no time to stop. Zade and Kaura intercepted the second creature as it charged at her. Evelyne shoved forward, pressing her body against Seraphine and her mother, forcing them back toward the kitchen.
Go. Please, go.
The words beat through Evelyne’s mind as she drove her mother and Seraphine toward the door, forcing them farther from the danger.
Now.
Lady Celeste stumbled first, and Seraphine caught her, guiding her backward as Evelyne turned to meet the third Noskari head-on. It struck fast, but she was faster. Her claws raked across its chest while Zade and Kaura handled the others.
Evelyne pushed her mother through the entrance with her snout. But the moment they crossed into the kitchens, horror struck all over again.
Bodies lay still across the floor. Broken. Bloodied.
They were servants she knew. Faces she had greeted in corridors, voices she had heard carrying through the house, now still and unrecognizable beneath blood and ruin. Two Noskari crouched among the bodies, feeding, until the sound of movement drew their heads up.
“No!” Seraphine cried out as she took in the scene.
The creatures smiled, fresh crimson dripping from their teeth and chins.
Evelyne launched herself at the nearest one, colliding with enough force to drive it back. Her claws tore through its gray flesh as it snapped and clawed for purchase. Zade struck from the side, Kaura from behind, and together they forced the Noskari away from the bodies.
For one breath, the three of them held the kitchen.
Then more came.
From the dining room. From the corridor.
From every shadowed corner of the manor.
Gray-skinned bodies crowded the doorway, pressing forward in a wave of hunger and ruin.
They poured into the kitchen until the room felt too small to hold them, until the air itself seemed to choke beneath their presence.
Evelyne fought. Gods, she fought. But it would not be enough.
Her strength was fading, her limbs heavy, her breaths ragged and hot in her chest. She did not know where the rest of Oathroot were.
She did not know how long she could keep standing.
But she would fight until her body failed if it meant keeping her mother, Seraphine, and the others alive for even one more second.
Zade was thrown into the counter, his ribs striking the marble hard enough to make him curl inward with pain.
Fury burned through Evelyne’s blood.
Do. Not. Hurt. Him.
She lunged with a snarl, jaws opening wide and clamping down on the Noskari’s arm.
Bone and shadow gave beneath her teeth. She ripped the limb free and flung it aside.
Zade staggered, shook off the pain, then threw himself back into the fight.
Kaura was still standing, still fighting against anything that came too close.
Good.
Then claws sank into Evelyne’s side. Deeper this time.
Pain split through her as they ripped into flesh. She twisted, biting and snapping, desperate to keep them back, but another Noskari latched onto her shoulder and dragged her down. Her legs buckled beneath the weight.
A sharp cry broke from her throat.
She could not breathe.
Could not move.
The wound was too deep.
Zade’s howl ripped through the manor, loud and frantic, a warning meant for every wolf close enough to hear. Then he barreled into the Noskari pinning her and wrenched it away with savage force.
Evelyne forced her head up.
There were too many.
A familiar scream pierced her ears, and she turned to see Seraphine standing over her mother, one blade buried in a Noskari’s gut, her other arm hanging uselessly at her side. She was protecting Celeste. Saving her. She was—
No.
Evelyne saw it then: the claw driven through the other side of Seraphine’s chest, holding her upright while her knife remained lodged in the creature’s stomach. The Noskari worked itself off the blade, inch by awful inch, before wrenching its claws from her body.
And Evelyne could do nothing but watch as Seraphine dropped to her knees, the knife slipping from her fingers.
Seraphine fell onto her side, and time stopped completely.
Hatred, anger, fear—it all ignited inside Evelyne at once.
Fire. That was what grief felt like before it had a name.
Fire burning her from the inside out, turning her heart to ash.
The sounds around her dulled, the fight fading into something distant and meaningless, and for one terrible breath, she almost let herself break.
Almost.
A snarl rose from her throat as Evelyne hurled herself forward, every ounce of strength driving her toward Seraphine.
Zade and Kaura surged past her, striking the creatures with a fury that destroyed what remained in seconds, as though they had felt her pain through the air and wanted vengeance for it.
More wolves flooded into the kitchen and through the manor behind them, forcing the remaining Noskari to flee.
But Evelyne no longer saw them. She was already shifting, already falling back into her human body, collapsing beside Seraphine with trembling hands and a heart gone silent with terror. Blood pooled beneath her handmaid. Too much blood.
“Seraphine.” Evelyne’s voice broke as she pressed both hands to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, trying to hold her together. “Stay with me. Please. Please.”
Her mother grabbed a nearby cloth and pressed it over Evelyne’s shaking hands, but whatever composure Celeste had left shattered the moment the blood soaked through.
“Hold it,” Evelyne gasped, pressing harder, her palms slick, her breath ragged. “Don’t go. Don’t leave me.”
Seraphine’s eyes found hers, though Evelyne could barely see through her tears. “My lady…” she whispered.
“No.” Evelyne shook her head violently. “No, don’t. Just stay. Please. Cillian can help.” Panic seized her chest, and she lifted her head. “Cillian!” she screamed, though she did not even know if he was home. If he was safe. “Cillian!”
Seraphine’s hand rose weakly and brushed Evelyne’s cheek. A touch she had known her whole life.
“It’s all right,” Seraphine breathed. “I’m so glad…” She swallowed, her voice fading. “Glad to have been with you again.”
Her eyes fluttered shut, peaceful in a way that felt cruel. As if she had not been torn open by a monster from the darkest corner of the world. As if they were not still surrounded by blood and screams and death. As if Evelyne could do anything but watch her slip away.
“No, no, no.” Evelyne bent over her, sobbing. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
But Seraphine’s breath faded.
The beat beneath Evelyne’s trembling hands slowed.
Stopped.
“No!” Evelyne wailed, collapsing over her as grief hollowed out everything inside her.
Seraphine.
Her second mother.
Gone.